A Time to Collect
by SophieSaulie
Summary: A demon has arrived to collect Dean's soul and more. Is there anything Sam can do now? Will Dean be able to save himself without breaking the deal?
1. Chapter 1

**A Time to Collect**

It was the usual scenario for the Winchesters, a dingy motel room in a small, Podunk town in the middle of nowhere. They had defeated yet another demon with the help of Bobby and were enjoying their victory. Bobby had gone to his room to cash in for the night, mumbling something about being too old to be tossed into walls. Dean and Sam could only smile at their friend as they, too, headed for their room. They were both grateful at having Bobby by their side in the fight. Bobby often got intelligence of demon activity through his fellow hunters, but he had been more than just another hunter to the brothers. As Dean's year started counting down quickly to a matter of a few months, both of them had found fatherly solace at having Bobby close. For Sam, it was the encouragement Bobby gave him to keep trying to find a way out for Dean no matter how dark the prospects became the more the year dwindled. Sam couldn't face a calendar without feeling his throat and chest constrict. Bobby would be realistic, but hopeful as he assisted Sam as much as he could.

For Dean, Bobby had become like a father. Someone he could drop his walls down for just a little while to confide how worried he was about Sam and to ask Bobby to watch out for him after he was gone, knowing he would keep his word. Though Bobby would light-heartedly tell Dean that he wasn't going anywhere, that there was still time to find something, they would exchange knowing glances that would speak volumes and of the truth facing them. Bobby wasn't a fool and Dean had appreciated that he had never pulled any punches. When the time came, he would be exactly what Sam would need. Dean was comforted by the thought that some semblance of family would be there for Sam.

Sam lay on his bed, physically exhausted, but unable to sleep. Sleep had become more and more elusive as the days ticked down. A part of it was the need to think of something else to look up in Bobby's books or to agonize over something he must have missed in his research, but most of it was fearing that he would fall asleep one day and wake up to find Dean gone. It was a fear that always brought a chill. It was unimaginable yet he knew it would be inevitable unless he could find a way to save him.

Dean was too pumped up with adrenaline from the fight to sleep. He needed to gear down so he assembled the weapons and began readying them for the next battle. Disassembling them, cleaning them, and reloading them were instinct for Dean and the concentration relaxed him. He enjoyed feeling his hands move quickly over the weapons. It gave him confidence to have his skills reassured, especially these days. Every move had always meant the difference between life and death, but, for Dean, death had taken on a whole new meaning for him and for Sam.

As he reached over the table to get one of the salt guns, he was suddenly assaulted by pain. It was so intense that Dean doubled over, his eyes reflecting surprise and uncertainty. Sam watched in shock and rushed over to help him onto the bed.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"Don't…know…" Dean choked out as another violent stab of pain hit, driving him to his knees.

It was then that the motel room door flew open from a fierce wind and a man, seemingly taller than Sam, stood in the doorway.

Sam tried to reach for the salt gun, but was slapped aside as if he were a fly.

"Leave…him…alone!" Dean barked out as authoritatively as he could, his protective instincts kicking in.

"It's time, Dean. It's time for me to collect."

"W…What?"

"Your contract. It's mine. Your soul belongs to me and I've come to collect."

"No! No! It's not time, his year isn't up!" Sam protested.

"Foolish young man, that's just a guideline. I can collect anytime I choose," the evil voice laughed. "And I choose now."

"Why? Why now?"

"Sam, s…stop," Dean said, understanding this wasn't something you pissed off.

Dean exerted as much control and stealth as he could over the pain as he pulled off his amulet and snuck it onto the night table. Both Sam and the demon unaware of what he had done.

"I don't need a reason. Call me mercurial," it taunted.

"Why Dean?" Sam asked, continuing to tempt its mood. "Why do you want him so bad?"

"Why? Isn't it obvious?"

Both brothers fell silent, having no answers.

A flash of bright light filled the room, blinding them both. The next thing they knew, they were in some kind of cave or darkened room.

Dean was lying on the floor, the pain felt lessened, but it wasn't completely gone. He was breathing raggedly.

"Sam?" He called out in the semi-darkness, hoping to hear silence and that he had been taken to Hell alone, that Sam had been safely left behind.

"Dean?"

Dean's heart sank. He had never wanted to drag Sam down with him.

"You okay?"

"Yeh, yeh, I'm fine. How about you?"

"I'm just peachy," Dean responded with his classic sarcastic bite.

Just then, torches from all around the room flicked on as if by some kind of evil magic trick. Sam spotted Dean on the ground and went towards him. He lifted him to a sitting position, Dean grimacing all the while.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, not really expecting an answer.

"You are in a netherworld between life and death, Heaven and Hell and yet, not quite purgatory either. It's my world, my dominion."

"Let Sam go! He wasn't a part of the deal!!!!" Dean shouted, the full strength of the bass timbre in his voice echoing in the room.

"Oh, I beg to differ. The deal was all about Sam. Don't worry, I'll let him go, but not until I've had my fun. Both the Winchester brothers. Quite a coup, I must say."

"So help me, I **will** kill you if you hurt him. I'll find a freakin' way to track you down in Hell and kill you if anything happens to him!" Dean breathed heavily, but never losing the conviction behind each word.

Something then shifted quickly into the room, shoved Sam out of the way and pinned Dean against the wall. The figure was dressed in a black shroud. Its face covered in shadow, its form hidden in the folds of the fabric, but its red eyes glowed from within. All Dean could think of was that it reminded him of a creepy, demonic version of the Jawas in Star Wars.

"NO!" Sam yelled as he regained his composure and started towards the demon, but without lifting a finger, it tossed Sam against the opposite wall and held him there.

"Patience, Sam. It's not one of your strong points. You **are** your father's son. You have much to learn about your brother here and I intend to be your teacher. Only after you have learned your lessons well will I let you go."

The hooded figure then released Dean just long enough to put shackles on his wrists with lightening speed, too fast for Dean to even attempt escape. It then backed away and laughed.

"The legendary Winchesters. One was chosen to be king, to become the leader of the demon army then refused the honor. The other, well, in our world, he is called the scourge of our kind. It will be a pleasure to remove his soul from the Earth and Heavens. I'll be hailed and perhaps it will be I, who will lead the army towards humanity's destruction."

"Is that what this is? A power play? A demon's version of The Apprentice? Take me out and you become the grand poobah of the demons?" Dean taunted. "Well, you're giving me WAY too much credit. I'm not that important of a player in this war. You're just taking out one soldier in it. There are plenty more where I came from and they'll finish what I couldn't."

The demon laughed low and menacing.

"You have no idea, do you?"

"About what?" Dean scoffed.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that no one's told you, after all, if you did know…well, that's not important now. You think you're insignificant. Azazel made the mistake of underestimating you, but I won't. He was right about one thing though. You do have a self-sacrificing streak in you that borders on self-loathing. Shouldn't complain, I suppose. It's done us well. Taking your soul will be all the more satisfying knowing you care so little for it, so much so, that you'd throw it away to save your brother."

"Shut up!" Dean shouted.

"Oh, I've only just begun," the demon laughed again.

It then walked over to where Sam was lying on the floor, frozen and immobile. Sam allowed a fleeting humorous thought to run through his mind about how he was getting tired of being pinned against things, but then just watched stoically as it approached him. Dean struggled against his bonds when he saw it move toward Sam, but he knew he was helpless to do anything. His inner protectiveness screaming that he had to help Sam, but the reality of his bondage suffocating the sound.

"Get away from him!" Dean yelled.

"And you, Sam. Have you no gratitude for being brought back from the dead? You can't deny feeling the change coming over you. What you did to that hunter months ago? You can't possibly believe you did that with just human strength, do you? No, you came back evolved and that power has yet to be tapped fully. I may get the privilege to strike the first match to ignite it."

"I'll never be one of you!" Sam defied.

"Oh, my boy, you will have no choice."

The demon walked back towards Dean and without touching him, ripped the front of his many layers of shirts open to reveal bare flesh, Dean's breathing accelerated in anticipation of something horrendous coming next.

"What? Get your kicks from ripping clothes off? First bondage? Now this? Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't swing that way."

The demon acted as if it didn't even hear Dean. It placed a hand on Dean's chest and energy flowed between them. Dean screamed. It was blood curdling and Sam could only watch in horror and dismay. Sam had never heard Dean scream like that. Hell, he had never heard Dean scream. Even when the yellow-eyed demon was torturing him, cutting him from the inside out, Dean had barely cried out, but that had been a whimper compared to the long, gut wrenching scream Sam heard now.

"STOP!!!!" Sam yelled.

Dean's hands fisted and opened as his body stiffened and writhed in pain, his breathing shallow and struggling.

Finally, after what seemed like hours later, the demon released him. Dean fell limp, but unconsciousness would not come to relieve him and he moaned low and coughed. The demon turned to Sam and again, laughed low.

"Your brother doesn't know, does he, Sam? You've been keeping secrets from him, haven't you?"

"Leave…him…alone…" Dean coughed and breathed out.

"He doesn't know that as a baby, Azazel fed you his blood. It was that your mother interrupted and had paid with her life, protecting you, trying to save you. Seems like everyone is doing that, aren't they? They must really value you and your life to risk everything, their own lives, their own souls to make sure you survived. Little do they know what they've been protecting. Still, your father knew what you were or maybe, to be fair, what you would become. He gave up his own life to give life to your brother and neither of you even asked why. Oh, Dean wallowed in self-pity, feeling that he didn't deserve to be brought back, but not why your father chose to save him instead of protecting you himself."

Sam's face first betrayed fear at the demon's revelations that he had kept secrets from Dean. He worried that he would go to Hell hating him, giving him more reasons to feel undeserved. He wondered what Dean thought, but when he looked over at him, Dean didn't betray anything other than defiance.

The demon walked back to Dean and with a clawed finger, scraped it across Dean' chest, causing a blood trail. Dean bit back a grunt and clenched his eyes closed.

"Go…to…Hell," Dean said, knowing he was stating the obvious, but unable to come up with anything cleverer, something completely unlike him.

"Oh, I'll be there and so will you soon, but not yet. I've got lots to do before we start the clock towards eternity," the demon taunted. "So where was I? Oh, yes, why dear daddy saved you…"

Dean wished he could stop hearing. He didn't want to listen to the demon tell him things that he didn't want to know or didn't care to know though he knew that it was all a part of being in Hell. What better way to torture him than to have him relive every failure over and over again, to remind him of all the lives he didn't save and should have saved? He was sure there would be more where that came from so he'd better get used to it. Still, the past was all water under the bridge for him now. It didn't matter anymore why their dad had sacrificed himself to save him. He didn't care whether Sam had been fed the demon's blood or not. Sam had been a baby, it's not like he could have stopped it so it wasn't his fault and as for their mom, well, she did what any mother would have done. She had loved her son, had tried to save him and had lost her life in the trying. He knew she couldn't have done anything less just like he couldn't have. As for Sam, he knew in his heart that Sam would defeat whatever would come his way. Their father had taught them both well. He also hoped that Sam had benefited from the time they had spent together these past few months and would use the memories to strengthen him. Dean's only regret was that he wouldn't be side by side with his little brother, fighting the good fight ever again.

"I…don't…give a rat's ass why so you can just save it!" Dean said angrily.

The demon came over to Dean again and its claw had become a hand again, but instead of placing it on Dean's chest, he plunged it into Dean and again, a scream Dean couldn't suppress came from his throat.

"Dean! No!" Sam cried out, knowing he was helpless brought him close to tears at hearing Dean suffer because of the deal he had made for him, to save him.

"Such a mouth on you. We're going to have to work on that."

Dean, through pain and heavy breathing, managed a wide grin.

"You give it…your best shot," Dean said as he laughed, a cross between a whimper and a raspy cough. "Better monsters…than you…have tried…and I killed them…"

The demon removed his hand. Dean arched and moaned with the pain then went limp again, but blissful unconsciousness was still elusive.

"You are strong. I have not felt such a defiant soul as yours and yet you still don't believe yourself important in this war."

Dean was too tired to respond back, but he wasn't going to give the demon anything. He just sneered.

"Your father was wise and dangerous. He knew that saving you would be Sam's best chance at survival. He knew of your strength and power."

Dean could only breathe. He had been gutted by pain and exhaustion. The demon then turned towards Sam.

"You, too, are strong, but your power has yet to be realized and without your brother to keep you grounded, you will immerse yourself in vengeance as you almost did when you lost your girlfriend Jessica."

"I will never become like you."

"I hardly expect you to aspire to be as great as I am, but you will be powerful, make no mistake about that."

The demon laughed again as if enjoying how it was toying with the brothers.

"Did you know, Sam, that Dean here wanted to go to college?"

"SHUT UP!" Dean yelled, finding some strength, but paid the price with a wave of pain that rattled his body, causing him to arch against the wall and moan breathlessly. "Don't…believe anything…this bastard tells you, Sam. Demons lie."

"Like Casey told you, Dean, some do lie, but some are true believers and I am one of them. I have no reason to lie, in fact, the truth is much more painful than lies ever could be. It can inflict suffering like nothing else. It leaves a satisfying taste that I've become addicted to and desire more of."

The demon approached Sam.

"He was thinking about becoming a fireman, you know, but he knew he could never be one because he was too busy keeping you and your father in line. He knew he couldn't leave the two of you alone for a minute before you'd start fighting and breaking apart and he couldn't let his family fall apart. So he let go of his hopes of ever leaving hunting or more accurately, his job, protecting you. He told you how tired he was…he is, Sam. Tired of playing peace keeper, tired of fighting a war he doesn't really believe any of you can win, but he still fights because it's what he knows, because he **does** believe in you, misguided as that belief is, and he wants to leave the world better for you so that you'll never have to face the same choices that he did. It's too bad he didn't think much of himself because without him, the world will be destroyed and I'll get to take the credit."

"I said SHUT UP!" Dean yelled, causing more pain to rack his body again.

Sam's eyes glimmered and try as he might to deny the demon's words he knew they were all true.

"You see, **that's** why your father sacrificed himself. He knew that without Dean, you and he would have battled each other instead of the demons. The grief you would have felt over losing Dean and being left with your father would have driven you to madness. He knew he could never give you what you needed. He knew that only Dean could. That madness would have eventually destroyed you and would have given life to the demon in you. Your father would have had to kill you to stop you. Instead, he gave life back to your brother in the hopes that he'd save you then burdened him with the responsibility of killing you if he failed. Seems a bit cowardly to me."

Sam stared wide-eyed at the demon, unable to form any words to deny what it was saying. Much as he loved their father, the real truth was that a part of him had resented him from the moment he had been thrust into the hunting world by him. Losing Dean **would** have driven them apart. They were too much alike.

"No, Sam. Don't believe this thing. Dad would never have done that," Dean pleaded, trying to reach out to Sam.

Sam looked over at Dean, saw the pain lining his face and could only give him understanding.

"Yeh, he would have and he would have been right…He was right, Dean. As much I loved Dad, deep down, I hated him too for what he did to both of us, and honestly? Mostly I hated him for dragging me into his crusade. I never wanted any of this. We would have been at each other's throats without you there."

"It's okay, Sam. You don't have to do the life anymore. You can finally walk away," Dean tried to assure.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, Dean. Once I let Sam go, you won't be there for him anymore and he won't have you to stop him."

"He won't NEED me to stop him because he can stop himself. He's a lot stronger than me. He's always been stronger than me," Dean insisted, regaining some of his strength.

"Not without you. You'd like to believe that Sam can go it alone. There goes that misguided faith of yours again, but he can't. He never could have. You will live your existence in Hell wondering what kind of monster your brother has become because of your selfish act to bring him back. Or, maybe you'll get to see it for yourself when we're freed from Hell by his hand."

Dean's face struggled to maintain its certainty against the demon's words, but he couldn't stop the worry from penetrating his heart. It wasn't Sam, he was doubting, just the influences when Sam would be vulnerable.

"No, I don't believe you. Bobby will protect him. He loves him like a son. He'll stop him."

"Did he stop you?"

"What?" Dean said with surprise.

"Did Bobby stop you?"

"That was different."

"Maybe a better question would be **could** he have stopped you?"

Dean blinked and felt a chill wash over him. He shuddered.

"I think we all know the answer to that one, don't we?"

"Okay, you've had your jollies, now let Sam go," Dean skirted.

"Not yet. Sam needs to hear more. He needs to understand what he's losing. He needs to see that without you, he IS that monster."

"No, you're not Sam. Don't believe him," Dean insisted.

The demon opened his hand and a sword melded into solidity with it. It gleamed menacingly in the dim glow of the light. The demon swung it around and thrust it into Dean's torso.

"NO!!!" Sam yelled, watching helplessly again.

Screams, once again, pierced the air and even echoed as the blade cut into Dean and his blood dripped down to the hilt.

"This is what awaits you, Dean. Torment at my hands for eternity, but there are worse things than physical pain. Fortunately, for me, you'll heal, over and over again so that I can keep on torturing you, but the scars on your soul, they won't heal as quickly, if they ever do at all. Wasn't it your own brother who said that no matter what is done to you, it's nothing compared to what you can do to yourself? You're your own best torturer, Dean. You still blame yourself for not getting there in time to keep Jake from killing your brother. Even with Sam, alive, in the flesh, you still think that letting him die in the first place makes you a failure, that you failed at doing your job."

Dean threw his head back in agony, struggling to breathe through the hot fire going through his entire body. Even if he had wanted to say something, he couldn't.

"You still feel your father died for nothing," the demon thrust the sword in deeper, making Dean stiffen. "Even after all I've told you, you still believe that your father would have saved your brother, not killed him. Denial is a river in Egypt, Dean. The longer you harbor it in your soul, the longer the pain will linger and never end."

The demon pulled the sword out quickly. Dean stiffened again and gasped from the pain.

"Do what…you need to do…Believe what…you want to believe…but I won't…believe that Sam…is a demon…He's good…nothing…will turn him. Nothing. Now…let him go…"

Dean coughed up blood and just spit it out, aiming for whatever passed for the monster's feet, but not sure if he hit anything.

Suddenly, the room started to quake and Dean watched as Sam began to transform, disappearing into a bright light. He looked over at the demon, but there wasn't a face he could read to see if it had some thing to do with what had just happened.

"What did you…do to him?" Dean tried to yell.

The demon turned. Its eyes glowed and for reasons that he couldn't explain, Dean felt something from it. He could have sworn it was shock.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 2**

Sam woke up feeling groggy and disoriented at first then he straightened abruptly when the memory of where he had been and what he had seen there rushed into his mind. Dean was being tortured. He looked around and he was in a room, but not the room where he had been with the demon and Dean. There were only a few pieces of furniture, a chair, a small table, and the bare floor he had been lying on. Suddenly, his finely trained senses felt something shift in the darkness and he became hyperaware. He saw the darkness warp and keyed his sight to it, his other senses keeping watch around the rest of the room. When the darkness moved again, Sam stood up and backed away from it. When the moving ebb disengaged from the rest of the darkness, Sam could then identify what it was or more accurately, who it was.

"Dad?" He uttered, his emotions teetering dangerously on a precipice that he was barely keeping under control.

"Sam," John said as his smile grew.

Sam didn't know what to believe, his eyes or his feelings. When he last saw his father, he had been an apparition who had saved him and Dean from the yellow-eyed demon, then disappeared into a flash of light. He had seen tears in his father's eyes then, just as he was seeing them now.

"No, you're a trick. It's the demon," Sam said, his logic warring with his feelings.

"No, Sam. I'm really here."

"You can't be my dad. He would have saved Dean, not me," Sam said, his voice trembling with a sob.

John looked over at his sobbing youngest son and recalled the many times he had seen him that way throughout his childhood and a pang of regret hit him. Sam had every reason to doubt him. John had never given him a reason to believe in him.

"Sam –"

"No, I won't believe anything you say until I see Dean, until I know he's safe!" Sam demanded.

John found himself smiling. This was Sam. He was always rebelling, resisting authority, resisting him.

Suddenly, a door swung open and Bobby rushed in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a ghost from the past.

"Bobby," John said, nodding at him.

"My God. John?"

"It's good to see you again."

Sam watched with surreal fascination as his father talked to Bobby as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had changed, though he knew by looking at Bobby's face, whatever had brought John back, it hadn't been Bobby.

"What's happening and where's Dean?" Sam asked confused.

Bobby turned to Sam.

"When I found both you boys gone and the smell of sulfur and brimstone, I knew what had happened so I went looking for a spell to get you out."

"But why didn't it work for Dean?"

Bobby swallowed hard, unable to find the words to tell Sam the truth.

"Because you weren't supposed to be in Hell and Dean –" John said, hoping to help Bobby, willing to be the bearer of the harsh reality.

Much as John hated to admit it, Sam was used to him doing that.

"NO! He's not supposed to be there either. We have to help him!" Sam yelled.

John looked at Bobby and understood that he had to be a father to Sam now because it was what Sam needed and something that he had denied him all his life.

"I know, son," John tried to soothe.

Sam then shook himself, realizing that there was still an unanswered question he needed an answer to.

"Wait! What are you doing here? You can't be real. You're –"

John nodded.

"I know and I can explain."

Sam silently waited.

"Several months ago, Dean did a little research on his own. He didn't tell you or Bobby. He was looking for a way –"

"To bring you back? No, that's not possible, Dean would never do that."

"You're right. He wouldn't. He didn't," John said with a fondness in his voice.

Bobby's eyes then lit up with recognition.

"A binding spell?"

John nodded again.

"How the hell did he –" Bobby said.

"Like I said, he didn't want either of you to know because he knew you'd stop him and -"

"If it went south, he wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt," Sam finished. "But why would he do it at all?"

"To protect you," John said.

"What? How do you know that?"

"Because he told me."

Sam just stared at his father.

"Let me explain…" John started.

"_Dad…" Dean whispered under his breath as he watched his father materialize after reciting the spell._

"_Dean? What are you doing?" John asked, worry in his voice that Dean had crossed over into something risky and deadly._

"_I need you, Dad. Sam needs you."_

"_You know this is dangerous, if anything goes wrong –"_

"_It's only me who gets hurt. I did my homework, Dad. I know what I'm doing."_

"_What __**are**__ you doing?" John said, his voice lightly scolding from concern._

"_You know about the deal?" Dean asked, his eyes filled with tears as he felt a mix of joy and sadness at seeing his father again._

_John could only nod, a serious and concerned look on his face._

"_I'm sorry if you're disappointed about what I did. I know everyone else seems to be, but I had to, Dad. It was the only choice I had and I couldn't leave Sam like that. I failed him and I had to make it right. I wouldn't take it back for anything."_

"_Dean –"_

"_Look, I don't have much time. I have to tell you why I'm doing this."_

_John just watched his son's face. It was lined with worry and torment that John knew had come from hating the idea of leaving Sam alone. John felt Dean's pain and exhaustion; a weariness for a life that he didn't want to live anymore. It broke John's heart to see Dean, his oldest, the one who had taken care of him and Sam single-handedly all their lives, completely resigned to his fate in Hell. John hated that he had driven his loving and devoted son to the brink like this. Still, despite all that, there was also purpose in his eyes and John knew what that purpose was. He knew that Dean felt he had just one more job to do before he met his end; one last act for his family. _

"_I'm going to bind you to Sam. I need you to protect him, Dad. I know that he's strong, that he can defeat anything, but he's so scared, scared of losing me, but he's also scared of what he's becoming. The super human strength, the acceptance that sometimes you have to kill humans, it's scaring him and I won't be there to keep him from doubting himself. That's all it is, Dad, just doubt. He's not evil."_

_Dean's testimonial about his little brother gave John a feeling of pride he didn't think he could feel anymore._

"_I know," John reaffirmed._

"_When I go to Hell, please, be with him. Help him through it. And please, Dad, I'm begging you, don't fight with him anymore. I know he'll make it hard because he'll be hurting, but please don't buy into it. Do that for me, okay?"_

_John looked at Dean and understood what he was asking of him between the lines. He was telling him to act like a father, to be the responsible adult he should have been when they were kids._

"_I can't be there to fix it for you two anymore."_

_And though John knew that Dean hadn't meant to say them to hurt him, the words stung nevertheless. The truth often did._

"_I know and I'll be there for Sam. I promise."_

_John watched as Dean nodded his head, at a loss for anything more to say. He smiled at him._

"_Dean, I want you to know that I could never be disappointed in you. You've never failed me and you've never failed Sam. I haven't been the kind of father who's earned the right to say that to you, but I can't let you believe that you failed us. You didn't. You're taking the blame for something that wasn't your fault and I can't let you do that. I taught you too much about responsibility, made you carry it when you were too young and shouldn't have had to, but you knew that someone had to for Sam, that he needed someone to guide him, to love him and you gave it without complaint. Sam is the man he is because of you. I can never make that up to you, but I promise you that I'll protect him, that I'll take care of him for as long as he needs me. I only hope I can make you as proud as you have always made me."_

_Dean just swallowed hard and looked at his father, wanting to etch his image into his mind to carry with him into Hell._

John found tears in his eyes recalling the moment, again, something he thought he could never do again yet there they were. John couldn't tell Sam everything, knowing that there were some things that Dean had wanted to keep between the two of them and also knowing that telling Sam about their fights would only make Sam defensive. He had to keep Sam together. He had promised Dean that.

"Dad, we have to find a way to get Dean out of Hell. I can't leave him there. We can't just leave him there."

John was at a loss as to what to tell Sam. He had no solutions for him.

Bobby then spoke up.

"Sam, I found this on the end table at the motel," Bobby said, as he held up Dean's amulet.

"That's –" Sam started.

"His amulet, the one I made for you when you were a kid," Bobby said.

"He never takes that off," Sam said. "Why did he?"

"I think I know," Bobby said with a smile.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 3**

Dean was filled with mixed emotions. He was glad to see Sam freed from where he was, but was worried about where he had gone. The only comfort he had to hold onto was that the demon had acted like he hadn't known either. He had to believe that Bobby or their dad had found a way to save Sam. As long as he wasn't there with him, that's all Dean could hope for, to spare Sam from seeing any more of what was going to happen to him.

He felt his body tremble with pain. It was endless and unrelenting; both fire hot agony and intense ache. He tried to prop his head against the wall to gain some control over it through breathing, but he soon realized that he was in Hell and logic didn't always apply. He felt his body involuntarily spasm and it sent waves of agony down to his bones. He stiffened and gritted his teeth against it, the only sound he was willing to utter was a grunt of discomfort. He knew that all he could do was keep the pain tolerable as much as he could.

"Well, it looks like your brother got away. Clever boy, I must say. Probably some other meddling fool feeling he's worthy of saving has plucked him back to the living. Too bad no amount of conjuring will save you."

Dean closed his eyes against more pain assailing him and moaned with each breath he exhaled. He then opened them and smiled.

"It's just…you and me now…bring it…on."

"You know you really have a death wish," the demon taunted.

"Yeh, well, I guess…I got…my wish then, huh?" Dean breathed and smiled.

"Did your father give you that?"

"Leave my dad out of this. He was a hero."

"He was a selfish bastard who only cared about avenging his wife's death and he dragged you and Sam along for the ride. Admit it. He was, at best, an absentee father, at worst, he was an obsessed madman."

"You don't…get to talk…about him that way," Dean said, his anger building along with his pain.

"Yes, I seem to remember you telling a certain FBI agent the same thing. Why protect him anymore, Dean?" The demon said as its eyes flashed redder for a second. "I mean, he's dead and thanks to Azazel, Jake and the Colt, he was freed from Hell so why bother idolizing him anymore? You're in Hell, Dean. There is no redemption here. Your devotion will get you nowhere. It won't gain you any points to keep defending your father."

Dean gritted his teeth then smiled.

"Maybe, but it keeps me from becoming like you…and I can live with that."

"So, is this all for show then? Are you so like daddy's little toy soldier that you tow the line even when you don't have to anymore? Are you that brainwashed? Do you really believe what you're saying?"

Dean then began to laugh. Pain radiated from every pore of his being, but he kept on laughing, a groan here and there would mix in with it. He was afraid that maybe he was going a little mad from the pain already, but he couldn't stop.

"What is this, huh? A little demon psycho babble? Are you trying to make me face that I'm twisted, that I'm not right in the head? Well, let me save you the time…Oh, wait, guess time is all we got, huh? I get it. I'm your personal little head case. Well, you can yak all you want because I already know I'm a little twisted. I've been damaged for a long time now, but it had nothing to do with how my father raised me."

"It doesn't? I think Sam might disagree."

"You don't know anything about Sam. It's monsters like you that damaged me. It's being around all that evil…destroying it…sometimes letting it seep into you little by little until you can't feel anything anymore…so numb that you become like them…become dead inside like them," Dean said softly.

"And who exposed you to that?"

"That yellow-eyed...son of a bitch who killed my mother," Dean asserted.

"No, your father –"

"MY FATHER lost the love of his life that night," Dean yelled, the effort electrifying his body with more pain and he winced. "I lost the best mother…ever…and Sam never got to even know her…no human could have walked away…from that whole…"

"Your father had a choice."

"And he chose to fight. I chose to fight."

"And what about Sam?"

Dean remained silent, breathing with difficultly, but he laughed again. In his heart, he knew that Sam would choose life. That was enough for him.

**oooo**

Bobby had decided that they had to get back to his place, taking the amulet with him. He had been restrained with his optimism, but it was there nevertheless and Sam seized it like a lifeline. Bobby wouldn't make promises he couldn't keep, in that way, he reminded Sam of Dean so until he could be sure he kept silent about what he suspected. It made heading back to Bobby's place all the more anxiety-ridden for Sam.

Sam followed in the Impala, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He was trying to keep his mind and eyes on the road, but it was hard to suppress his hope. His father's presence was still with him and his heart clenched with want, a want for his big brother to be there beside him instead and a twinge of guilt for thinking that.

"Sam, I don't want you to get your hopes up –" John said with measured care and sympathy.

"I know, but it's all I have, Dad," Sam replied, emotions putting a tremor in his voice. "I need to believe."

John understood and fell silent.

"Dad?"

"Yeh, Sammy?"

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"For what?"

"For always fighting you. After you died, I…all I wanted to do was make up for all the times I…"

John swallowed hard and wondered for a moment if Dean had found a way to be there in the car with them somehow, making peace between them as he always had.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, son. You weren't wrong. I was. Yeh, I wanted to keep you boys safe from the evil I was bringing into our lives, but I should have done it differently or not done it at all. I should have done a lot of things differently. I wasn't the father you deserved, that you both deserved."

"You did your best."

"You know it wasn't enough and I'm sorry for that."

Sam nodded and smiled shakily at his father, the man he had resisted most of this life, had blamed for the legacy that both he and Dean had been carrying and for the childhood that had been robbed from both of them and he couldn't find the resentment anymore. Suddenly, all Sam wanted was his father.

"It's okay, Dad," Sam said, remembering how often Dean had said those words to their father.

Even though John didn't have the need to breathe, he couldn't help the involuntary intake of air as the memory of those words seeped into him. He had been rendered speechless by the kind forgiveness of his son. He marveled proudly at what fine young men his sons had grown into and he knew he could take no credit for any of it. They had nurtured each other in his absence into the brave young men they were. All he could give Sam now was his pride and protection as a father and fulfill Dean's wish of him.

Another moment of silence passed as Sam tried to build up the courage to ask his father about Dean.

"Dad?" Sam finally asked.

"Yeh, son?"

"What did Dean say to you?"

John looked over at his youngest son's pleading eyes and an overwhelming need to touch Sam came over him, to make a connection with him, but he felt an emptiness in knowing that he would never feel either of his sons' touch again. Another pang of lost opportunity hit him in the heart.

"He told me that you were strong and that he didn't want to leave you alone. It's why he risked everything to bind me to you. He believes in you, Sam, but he was worried that you'd blame yourself for what happened to him and he didn't want that. He didn't want you to enter the darkness, become broken like he had after I…" John paused, "not over a choice he had made. He chose life. Life for you. He couldn't have done anything less," John said.

"What about life for him?"

"Don't blame him for that, Sam. Blame me. I did that to him. He's tired because he's carried so much for so long. He took care of both of us and it's so a part of him that he doesn't know how to do anything else."

Sam nodded in understanding.

"Why won't he let me carry some of it?"

John smiled.

"Because he's a stubborn pain-in-the-ass. I wonder where he got that from?" John joked.

Sam snorted in agreement. John then became serious again.

"To him, you'll always be that little baby he carried out of our burning house. You'll always be his responsibility no matter how old you get. It's not about trusting you or your abilities or thinking that you can't handle things. He knows you can, takes pride when you do. It's just about a love for you that he can't do without. And Sam, please don't ask him to. I think it would kill him. Your death nearly did."

Sam could only sigh.

"You **are** his life. You always will be."

**oooo**

When they had arrived at the house, Bobby quickly began pouring over his books to find what he needed. Sam offered to help, but Bobby insisted that it would go faster if he looked. He cursed under his breath about not taking the time to organize the books and then went at them. He told Sam to help himself to some beer and relax. Sam didn't think he could relax even if he had wanted to, remembering what the demon had been doing to Dean when he was there and worrying about what other tortures Dean was going though. It anguished Sam with helplessness.

"I'm so worried about him, Dad. What that demon was doing to him…he was in such awful pain."

John understood and nodded.

"I know, Sam, but I'm sure Bobby will find something."

Sam, only just realizing what he had just said, remembering that his father had just escaped from Hell, grimaced at his insensitivity.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I know you must –"

"Don't be, Sam. I do know what Dean is going through and it's killing me not to be able to help him."

Sam's face crumpled in worry.

"What if we do get him out? Will he…I mean…your body…we…" Sam stumbled, trying to put together the words to ask his father, who had suffered his own private Hell there, what would happen to Dean if they did get him out.

"I know what you're trying to say. I was dead, but the demon took Dean whole to Hell. You're worried about whether he'll come back the same way."

Sam could only nod.

"I don't know, Sam," John answered honestly. "You know Dean, if anyone can survive this, he can, but if he's too damaged –"

Sam shook his head.

"No, no, I can't think about that. I won't…I know I should be ready to face that…but Dad, I just can't."

"I understand, son. No matter what happens, what's important is that we'll be there for him."

John watched Sam struggle to keep his composure. He didn't know what Sam had seen there, but he knew enough to know that Dean wouldn't have been spared, if anything, because he was a Winchester, he'd be suffering the maximum, as John had, but John's suffering had been less physical as it had been psychological and that had been bad enough. When he had been released at the Devil's Gate, all the suffering had left him. The sight of his sons had healed him and had allowed him to move on. It tore at him that Dean might be suffering in sheer agony, that his wounds would be carried back with him and that his release would not come soon enough or worse yet, would only come with death. John didn't know how he would survive that let alone how Sam would.

Bobby emerged from another room, his face lit up with discovery.

"I got it!" He said.

"What? What have you got, Bobby?" Sam's excitement was apparent and unrestrained.

"You remember why I made the amulet, Sam?"

"Yeh, I asked you to make it for Dad for Christmas and when Dad didn't show up I gave it to Dean," Sam said as he turned to look at his father, a look of remorse on his face, but John smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Do you remember what it was for?"

"I asked you to make so it would protect Dad. I was scared something would happen to him," Sam said as he looked at his father again.

"Yeh, but I did more," Bobby said. "This figure is for protection, but when I saw it around Dean's neck, I knew you had given it to him instead of your dad. I made up an excuse to get it back from him because I wanted to add something to it. I don't know how Dean knew, but he left this because he knew I'd know what to do."

"What? What is it?" Sam asked.

"I engraved a kind of Devil's trap onto it that doesn't trap the demon in it, but protects the wearer from the demon's influences instead. It didn't make Dean invincible or anything, but it could be used to ward off possession and to invoke specific demons."

"I don't understand."

"I can bring Dean back," Bobby said simply.

Sam's eyes welled with hope that he prayed wouldn't be crushed beneath the heel of some demon.

"I found some text on drawing a different kind of Devil's Trap, one that not only traps, but makes the demon tell the truth and compels them to obey."

"Why haven't we known about it before?"

"To be honest Sam, I wasn't sure it really existed. It seemed more legend than fact, but when Dean left his amulet, I realized that he'd found something, but couldn't do anything about it because of the condition of the deal. He was willing to risk himself, but not you. He was hoping that leaving it behind would give me the clues I needed. Like you said, Dean would never leave his amulet behind, he hasn't taken it off since the day you gave it to him. He left it behind because he knew what it could do."

Sam was barely containing his excitement.

"Let's get him back, Bobby."

"There are risks…"

"I know that, but if the roles were reversed, I know that Dean would try."

Sam turned to John, asking for his approval in his eyes and John nodded.

"All right then, let's do this," Bobby said with a small glimmer of a smile

**oooo**

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 4**

The demon paced back and forth then released Dean's bonds. Dean fell hard and limp to the graveled floor, the impact only adding to his pain. He leaned back against the wall, grunting and moaning.

"Guess you must think I'm not a threat to you anymore, huh?" Dean joked tiredly.

"You've never been much of a threat," the demon taunted back.

"Think highly of yourself, don't you?" Dean breathed. "So, what's next, huh? More torture? Bring it on."

The demon bent down to face Dean.

"You keep fighting and fighting for your family and for what?"

"Another demon asked me that once," Dean grimaced.

"And you never gave Azazel an answer."

"And what makes you think you'll get one?"

"Like you said, Dean, we've got all the time in the world here and make no mistake, I will break you."

Dean laughed.

"Well, you just go ahead and try, buddy."

The demon lifted Dean up effortlessly and magically without using his arms or hands. Dean had no strength left to put up any kind of resistance, biting back the scream of pain that was dying to come out.

"I'll say this for you, you would have made an excellent ally to our side. I don't know of anything in our world that's as completely uncooperative as you, who can take as much pain as you have and still remain defiant."

Dean could only grin his characteristic _"What can I say?"_ grin.

The demon's hand turned into a small blade, smaller than the sword, but equally deadly looking.

"I will gut you until your screams can be heard throughout Hell."

A glimpse of apprehension flittered through the muscles in Dean's jaw as it clenched, but it disappeared quickly and he did his best to brace himself for the assault.

The knife was thrust into him then sliced down his torso in a grim and macabre kind of autopsy incision. The agony was beyond description and Dean couldn't hold back his scream, but there was a quality to it that sounded like the rallying call of a warrior, piercing and high pitched to break ear drums and deafen any thing, alive or dead. It was also tinged with Dean's unmistakable defiance. Within the scream, he uttered one word, one name, "SAMMY!"

**oooo**

Sam felt pain in his ears, then a piercing sound. He grimaced and covered his ears as if by doing that he could block it out, but he knew it was coming from inside his head. When the sound became louder and clearer, he heard something that tore at his heart. It was just one word. He'd heard his name. John saw Sam's pain and was concerned.

"What is it?" John asked.

"It's Dean…I…hear him…oh God, he's in so much pain, Dad," Sam said his voice clogging with emotion.

John looked into his son's eyes and didn't disbelieve him. He could believe Dean would reach out to Sam even from beyond earthly, heavenly and hellish barriers. Though Sam wanted to hurry and get done, both Bobby and John had to calm him by saying that everything had to be meticulously completed. If they made even one mistake, Dean would be the one to suffer the consequences. Sam nodded in understanding and focused his mind to the tasks.

John watched and observed the Sam as he might have been as a student at Stanford. He could imagine him studying in libraries to the exclusion of any social activities, something Dean would have seen fit to break him of if he could have been there with him. The thought brought a smile to his face. Sam had always been a natural at research. He had the patience and intellect to absorb complex languages and phrases. Sam was the analyzer and the processor.

It didn't mean that Dean wasn't intelligent, far from it. John had watched him assess a problem and come up with innovative solutions that he would never have thought of. Dean was the problem solver. He had the mental acuity to assess quickly and think fast on his feet. He also followed his gut instincts. Together they were the perfect hunting team. Another feeling of deep regret gripped John as he wondered what his sons might have become if he hadn't interfered with his crusade. Sam had been right for calling it that.

"Okay, that's it, we're done," Bobby declared, nodding his head in satisfaction.

Sam stood up and took in a breath.

"What next?"

"We chant an incantation and hope it works."

"Okay, let's do it," Sam said.

"Here," Bobby said, as he gave Dean's amulet to Sam. "Hold on to it and concentrate on Dean. Don't be surprised if it glows and becomes hot. It's a good thing if it does, it means that Dean's energy is channeling through it. Over the years, the amulet's become a part of him, attuned to him, drawing on his life force. It will find him no matter where he is, so hold on fast, Sam. Don't drop it."

Sam nodded and squeezed the amulet in his hand. He hoped he could draw any remnant of Dean's strength from it.

"I wish I could do something," John uttered with a touch of frustration.

Patience had never been one of John Winchester's virtues.

"Being here is enough, Dad. I know it will be for Dean too," Sam comforted.

John could only nod, but his heart clenched at Sam's generosity towards him. The years with Dean had tempered Sam's anger. It warmed him to have this relationship with him after so many years of acrimony.

Bobby and Sam began chanting. John could only watch and wait. Waiting was another virtue he didn't possess. As they spoke the words, the Devil's trap began to glow from the powder that Bobby had outlined the circle and symbols. John had never seen it before and could only surmise that it had something to do with the truth circle.

The words were tumbling from their mouths and hot air flowed through the room. The circle glowed brighter and he could see the amulet in Sam's hand glow as well. Watching the events reminded him of all of the exorcisms he had performed over 23 years, all the lives saved, all the lives regrettably lost, though for him, the regret didn't last for long, there was always another hunt. Between them, it was always Dean who had taken the losses personally and the hardest. Sam may have expressed it more openly, but in the end, John knew that Dean took the failure of saving someone as a personal failing, something he didn't do or should have done. No matter what John had ever said, Dean would silently dismiss it then stoically compartmentalize it within himself never to talk about it again. Something he had learned from all of the criticisms that John had flung at both his sons. Mistakes cost lives John would say and Dean took that lesson to heart.

Finally, something began to materialize from within the circle. Fragmented at first, much like a malfunctioning transporter would do in a Star Trek episode, but with each passing second, the figure within would coalesce. Suddenly another fragmented figure began to appear on the floor outside of the circle near John's feet. As it solidified, John recognized it and his eyes widened in horror. It was Dean. He knew enough not to act startled or to interrupt the chanting in any way until everything had been said. Any kind of disruption could cause Dean his life and he knew that once Sam realized that Dean was there, his need to rush over and help his brother would be the very thing that would break his concentration. Still, as he watched Dean materialize, he was shaken to his core at what he was seeing, blood and lots of it, cuts and slashes on Dean's torso and most horrifying of all, a deep incision running down the middle of it. More and more of Dean appeared and more details began to form as well, including sounds. Dean's ragged, shallow breathing and the spasmodic movements of his body communicated how much pain he was in. It brought pain and anguish to John himself. He knew he shouldn't feel it, couldn't feel it as a spirit, but his fatherly instincts were telling him otherwise and the desire to want to reach out to his son was overwhelming.

Once the chanting was done, both the demon and Dean were fully formed and both Bobby and Sam looked over to where the sounds of pain and struggled breathing were coming from. Once they realized who it was, they dropped the book they were reading from and ran over.

"Dean?" Sam said in hushed shock.

"Good Lord in heaven," Bobby said, a look of horror and dismay etched on his face.

Sam carefully and with nervous uncertainty touched Dean.

"Dean? Oh my God, Dean," Sam sobbed out, seeing all of his brother's blood and the deep wound on his chest.

Dean looked over at Sam trembling with excruciating pain and what Sam saw in his eyes brought a chill to him. There was no recognition there.

"Where's Sam? Is Sam okay?"

"Dean, it's me. I'm here," Sam gently insisted, afraid that the blood loss might have caused a memory lapse and he didn't want to scare Dean.

"You're not Sam…He's just 15…I need to find him…I have to protect him. It's my job…"

**oooo**

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 5**

Sam swallowed hard and fought to keep his composure after hearing Dean declare the "job description" that had been unfairly given to him from the time Sam had been born. He knew that Dean had never complained once, knew that Dean had taken care of him and their dad with love and devotion, but knowing all that didn't make what was happening to Dean now any fairer, in fact, it made it all the more unfair that for all he had already sacrificed for them, he still had to suffer like he was.

"Dad?" Sam said, his voice a little boy's, as if reflecting Dean's imagined age of him.

"I heard," was all John could say.

"What do you think happened?" Sam asked both Bobby and his father.

"Shock and trauma to his body, blood loss, anything could have driven his mind elsewhere into the past," Bobby interjected.

"Coping mechanism?" John pondered.

"Maybe," Bobby said. "All I know for sure is that he's been gutted."

Sam winced at the word.

Bobby's voice and gaze turned to the demon pacing in the trap.

"What did you do to him?" Bobby yelled.

The demon, at first, seemed confused at what had happened to it, but when it spied the Devil's Trap beneath him then Sam and Dean, it stood still. It felt an odd sensation, it wanted to taunt and lie, but found that it couldn't.

"I tortured him," it said calmly.

"Anyone with eyes can see that!" Bobby screamed. "You son of bitch, it will be a pleasure wiping you off the face of this planet."

John had been heartened by Bobby's protectiveness. He knew Bobby's view of his parenting. He had been lectured about it more than a few times by him. Bobby had taken to the boys straight away as if they were his own. When John had been away and had left them with him, Bobby had cared for them as well as taught them valuable skills. A balance that John had envied and had wished he could have emulated. He had often wondered if Bobby had any children, but it was a subject that had never been brought up and was probably better left unspoken. John suspected that since Bobby had been in the life much longer than him, he had chosen not to bring children into it. John had wished that he hadn't brought his sons into it too, more now than ever after seeing Dean's suffering.

"I suspect it will," the demon said, "but then you wouldn't get your answers, now would you?"

"How can Dean still be alive? He's -" Sam asked, afraid to ask the more important question, could they save him?

"Damaged? Yes, well, it's Hell, you know. But I will admit he's a strong one. Most others I've tortured would have already been dead by now."

"SHUT UP!" Sam shouted.

Dean shook with pain and Sam's attention was brought back to him.

"Sorry," Sam said softly.

"It's okay…but I h…have to find Sam…he needs me…" Dean stuttered through his pain.

Sam's chin quivered at hearing Dean say that. Dean had no idea how much Sam needed him.

"You've been hurt bad, Dean…Sam is coming, just hang on," Sam said, hating to pretend, but knowing it was necessary.

"Mmmm…" Dean panted out. "You know, you…r…remind me of him…"

"Is that right?" Sam smiled shakily.

"Yeh, he's…got the…flopsy, mopsy…hair going for him…too…" Dean said, but then stiffened and groaned in Sam's arms.

"We have to help him," Sam said to Bobby and his father.

Bobby approached the demon.

"Can you heal him?" Bobby asked with venom in his voice.

The demon paused, tilting its head underneath the hood as if confused by the command.

"What are you? Deaf or something?" Bobby taunted.

"No, but what you're asking isn't logical."

"What?" Bobby asked, frustrated and eager to heal Dean before it was too late and he was too far gone to save. "What are you? Mr. Spock? What's logic got to do with this? I asked you if you could heal him."

"His wounds **are** physical and yes, I inflicted them, but only he can heal himself."

"He can heal himself?" Sam asked.

"Yes. It was the beauty of bringing him down to Hell whole, to dispense physical torture as well as emotional. Every wound I've placed on him remains as if he wants them there. I destroy souls. I don't heal them. Only he can heal his troubled soul, but he doesn't seem to possess the will. Perhaps, all those years of self-sacrifice is so ingrained in him, it cannot be separated from him."

Sam blanched at the revelation. He couldn't deny the words, much as he desperately wanted to.

"What if he doesn't heal himself?" Bobby asked the tough question.

"Then he will suffer for as long as his body can withstand it. It is within his power to heal himself, but he chooses not to or only enough to continue his suffering."

"Why?" Sam asked, confusion in his voice. "Why would Dean put himself through that?"

"Only he has the answer to that. I have tormented him, but he reveals nothing. The walls he has erected are stronger than anything I've come across. They are impenetrable. The enjoyment for me comes from him continuing to self-inflict suffering upon himself until he's a shell of who he was. I had yet to reach his breaking point when we were brought here. As I said, he is strong, but a human can only take so much. Once his body surrenders, so will he be gone."

"Will he go to Hell?" Sam asked, afraid to even consider the possibility of Dean's death, let alone him going to Hell, but he needed to know.

The demon smiled and at first, Sam thought that his worst fears would come true, that despite Bobby's efforts, they would ultimately fail.

"No. Because of your meddling, the contract has been broken, but from what I can tell, Dean will still have his own private Hell to live through."

Dean was hearing the exchange around him and was completely confused by all of it. He saw the blood on his hands and body and felt the incredible pain so he knew he was in bad shape, but the part about going to Hell didn't make any sense to him. He'd never make a deal with a demon, let alone sell his soul. Their father had taught him that demons lie and trick to get what they wanted, used human weaknesses and vulnerabilities against them. He would never risk leaving Sam or their dad that way.

He looked up and saw his father. He was looking down at him, but something inside of him was telling him that there was something wrong about seeing his father at all. A growing feeling of dread that he couldn't explain was overwhelming him. His emotions were being tossed in a maelstrom of confusion, loss, and grief, but why was he feeling those things? He couldn't shake the feeling that his dad shouldn't be standing there, that he shouldn't be seeing him, that he was…dead. The pain was getting progressively worse with his escalating anxiety and conflicting memories. He stiffened and shook from it.

"N…no, no…" Dean whimpered in confused anguish as he clenched in pain.

"Dean? What? What is it?" Sam asked, frightened that Dean was getting worse and worse by the minute.

"That's not Dad!" Dean said as he stared disbelieving at John.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 6**

"That's not Dad!" Dean said as he stared disbelieving at John.

"Sure it is, Dean," Sam tried to reassure, but uncertain about what he should be telling Dean.

"Ah, the truth will have its way," the demon taunted.

"What are you talking about? Are you doing this to him?" Sam accused angrily.

"I don't have to do anything to him and couldn't even if I wanted to. This infernal trap you have me in keeps me from doing anything, but I must say, I'm enjoying the show nonetheless," the demon taunted.

"Just cut the crap and tell us what you're talking about!" Sam yelled, sounding a bit like his big brother.

Maybe he had really channeled Dean through the amulet. Sam smiled inwardly at the thought.

"The walls that Dean has worked so hard to erect to keep him sane from the pain are collapsing. He sees your father, but his mind is rebelling over what it knows can't be true. Your father is dead and Dean is coming to that realization. Soon, he'll know everything."

Sam was conflicted. He wanted so much to have back the Dean he knew, to have him recognize him as the Sam he was in the present, not the 15 year old that he thought Sam was, but knowing that the truth could destroy Dean made him want to keep Dean from it for as long as he could.

"Dad's gone…he's dead because of me…I'm the one who should be dead," Dean uttered, his anguish only escalating as more of the truth became known to him.

John watched his son's suffering and couldn't stand idly by anymore.

"Dean, can you hear me?" John called out.

Dean's wide-eyed shock and grief was terrible to witness, but John swallowed down his own pain.

"Dean, can you see me?"

He nodded hesitantly, unsure of himself and what was happening to him. His breathing was labored and shallow.

"I'm here, son."

"Y…You can't be here. Y…you're dead," Dean said weakly.

"I taught you boys to always follow your gut, to trust your instincts, right?"

Dean nodded his head.

"So I'm telling you now to trust what you're feeling."

Dean nodded again.

"Now, listen to me, hear my words and don't fight what your heart is telling you. You have always followed your heart, Dean. Don't stop now. It's never let you down, not like I have."

Dean kept his eyes riveted to his father's and maintained enough control to concentrate on what he was telling him.

"You're right, I'm…" John struggled between wanting to be truthful and firm without being harsh. "I'm gone, Dean, but my death was never your fault. I left you thinking you'd survive my death. I was wrong. It almost killed you, but it was NEVER YOUR fault, do you hear me?"

Dean nodded as he trembled with pain.

"I made my choice because I knew Sam needed you more. You were the only one who could keep him safe, who could watch out for him."

Dean's eyes filled with tears and clenched his eyes closed with the mounting pain, letting them fall down his cheeks. When he opened them again, there was raw anguish and regret in them that both John and Sam felt and added their own regrets to.

"But I…I didn't, Dad. I…I…let him die…" Dean said as he looked over at Sam and for the first time really seeing Sam as he was in the present. "Sammy…I'm sorry. I screwed it up. I got you killed…I should never have called out to you. Dad's rule #1, you never give away your position or someone else's."

John stiffened. So did Sam.

"I disobeyed every rule in the book, everything you taught us, Dad. I got Sammy killed. I let a demon lie to me and cut a deal that I never should have made. Everything that happened is my fault. I did everything wrong."

Dean cried out as pain riddled his body.

John and Sam exchanged glances and realization dawned on both of them. Dean was punishing himself for breaking rules that had been drilled into him from childhood. In his eyes, disobedience couldn't be tolerated, had be to followed by punishment, but his self-inflicted torture would never end because Dean would never believe it was enough to make up for his failures. To Dean, everything he had done had been a dereliction of his duty. He would never forgive himself. John now understood what he had to do next, though it pained him to have to do it. He had created a soldier out of a sensitive and loving son and he knew the only thing that would get through to him would be to treat him like one, one last time.

"Dean? Dean, listen to me, that's an order," John said, but only firmly enough to get Dean's attention.

Sam looked over and, at first his expression was one of disgust. He couldn't believe that his father was going to order Dean to get over his guilt, guilt that they both had laid on Dean and should be responsible for.

"Dad! What are you doing?" Sam hissed angrily.

"What I have to, to save Dean," John said, his heart shattering at having to show Sam the father he had loathed all his life after finally reaching peace with him, but he knew it was the only way to save Dean and that was more important now. "Do you hear me, Dean?"

"Yes…sir," Dean barely squeaked out through the pain.

"Now, I want you to listen and listen good. What is the prime objective?"

Sam's face then softened. He understood now what his father was doing. He was reaching out to Dean in the only way Dean would hear him, as a soldier. He saw the pain in his father's eyes and found his own filling with tears.

"S…Saving…people, h…hunting…things."

"Correct and how do we accomplish this objective?"

"T…To do everything humanly possible to…save lives and to…kill as many evil sons of bitches as we possibly can," Dean recited, his breathing punctuated with pain.

Sam and John couldn't help, but smile at Dean's "colorful" interpretation of the "family motto". It reassured them to hear Dean talk that way as only he could.

"As I see it, you have performed your duty suitably and admirably."

"No, y…you told me to watch out for Sammy…to s…save him and I didn't do that."

"Did you kill him?" John asked abruptly.

It was a startling question and it took Dean off guard.

"W…What?"

"My orders were to save Sam and if you couldn't save him, to kill him. Did you kill him?"

"I…" Dean stumbled, confusion written across his face.

"When Sam had been possessed and begged you to kill him, did you?" John said, his voice quieting, now filling with love and pride for a son, who had done everything he had ever asked of him without question, even when he had asked the unthinkable of him. "No, you didn't, you believed in him even when Sam didn't believe in himself. You knew that Sam couldn't have hurt Jo or killed Steve Wandell. You were trying to save him all along until Bobby finally drove the demon out of him. Are you telling me you didn't do that?"

"N…No…sir."

"You wouldn't let those town's people kill Sam when they thought he had the demon virus and you wouldn't let Sam kill himself because something inside of you told you that Sam would be all right and even if the virus had taken him over, you would have followed orders, you would have killed him even if every fiber of your being would have rebelled against it. As his brother, you would have never let anyone else do your job for you, not even Sam. Am I right about that?"

Dean looked into his father's eyes, saw the pain in them and realization was washing over him too.

"Yes, sir…" Dean said softly, his body's trembling slowly quieting, his breathing still labored, but easing.

"When the crossroads demon tried to entice you into giving up your soul to bring me back, you didn't, did you? As much as you wanted to bring me back, you didn't give in. You saved Evan Hudson and though you were in a world of hurt, you knew that Sam needed you, that his needs had to come first and you put them first over your own, as you always have. Didn't you risk everything to bind me to Sam so that he wouldn't be alone, so that he'd have someone to help him live on without you, to save him when you couldn't be there to do it yourself? Something I should have done for you instead of putting you through your own Hell? Isn't that what a good soldier does? Puts the lives of his men before his own? Haven't you always done that for Sam and…for me? Isn't that what a big brother does?" John said, his voice calm, but tinged with emotion. "What a good son does? "

John looked into his son's eyes and smiled. Sam found tears falling from his eyes and just let them.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, son and there is no need for forgiveness. You have done everything right because you made every choice out of love for your family. There is no greater duty than that, to put family first and you have always done that, more than you should have ever been asked to. I can't say the same and I regret every time I made the both of you give up your hopes and dreams to fulfill my need for revenge. You have NEVER failed Sam or me. NEVER…And I have ALWAYS been proud of you, proud of you both," John said, completely lost in his own emotions.

Sam watched as their father laid bare his regrets and loss before them and could only find love and forgiveness in him for him. Their father had done his best. He'd even said so when Max Miller had killed himself. All things considered, they had come through everything relatively intact though he knew in his heart that if it hadn't been for Dean, he never would have made it. Dean had given everything of himself to make sure that he and their dad survived and they did.

John swallowed thickly and continued.

"It's me who should ask for **your** forgiveness for letting you both down, for treating you like soldiers instead of sons, for never being there for you as you have always been there for me. I'm sorry, Dean." John finished.

Dean's breathing began to even out and the pain began to ebb away. Hearing his father's words, his approval for all he had done was giving him relief from the pain. Now all he felt was weak, tired, but no longer feeling alone and no longer wanting to die.

"It's…okay, Dad."

John was stricken silent, but nodded. Dean then looked over at Sam.

"You…okay?" He asked and Sam could only look at him with amazement.

"I'm better now that you're back."

Dean nodded then slowly closed his eyes. At first, Sam looked panicked, but John smiled.

"It's all right, son. He's just fallen asleep. He's going to be okay," John assured, his own relief written across his face.

Suddenly they all heard what sounded like a wail of defeat. They looked up and watched the demon writhe and disintegrate into a black smoke. Its presence had been all but forgotten, their concentration solely on saving Dean.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

John smiled.

"Dean's free," was all he said.

**oooo**

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**A Time to Collect**

**Chapter 7**

John watched over his sons as they slept. Dean on the bed in Bobby's spare room and Sam in a nearby chair, unwilling to be convinced to sack out in another room. He didn't want Dean waking up alone. John could only smile at Sam's stubbornness.

He looked at Dean and enjoyed the peaceful rest he saw on his son's face. He hadn't seen that since Dean was a young boy. He hated waking him up, but he knew his time was growing short and he couldn't just leave him without talking to him one last time, couldn't leave them both that way. He had done that too many times in life. It was about time he had learned something from his son. You just don't leave the ones you love.

"Dean?" John whispered, but loud enough to hopefully wake him.

Dean moaned and stirred in his sleep then opened his eyes reluctantly. When his vision cleared, he saw his dad smiling at him.

"Dad? What is it? Is something wrong?" Dean asked, ready to leap into action if he was needed.

John softly chuckled at Dean's ever readiness. There were so many things that he could never take back. Dean would always be ready for battle, would always put himself in harm's way to save another, and he would never walk away from hunting because it wasn't in him to let innocents die. It was a testament to the kind of man Dean had become, but John hoped that his last act in this life would be to give both his sons a better future. By bringing him back to bind him with Sam, Dean had given him that last chance to redeem himself. Something he had failed to do the last time he had seen them, so gripped by emotion and remorse and with very little time to say what he had wanted to them. In many ways, John regretted that he had exposed both his sons to the evil in the world, made them into warriors to fight them, but inside, he knew that Dean had always possessed qualities that would have brought him to helping people somehow. He knew that his Mary would have given Dean the best of her qualities, her humanity, her honorable nature, her grace, her devotion to family, and most importantly, her love for the four years he had her in his life. Sam's only handicap in life was having never known his mother, but he knew that Dean had been able to impart Mary's compassion towards Sam and that Sam had learned his humanity from that compassion.

"Everything's fine, it's just…"

Dean slowly sat up in the bed, feeling the soreness in his muscles and the small pulls at his quickly healing wounds.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

John nodded.

"Not that I want to, but you knew it wouldn't be forever. The binding spell would only last as long as Sam needed me…" John smiled again only it was tinged with sadness. "And he doesn't need me anymore. He has everything he needs."

This time, Dean nodded in understanding.

"I know, Dad…it's just…"

"I know, son, but I wanted you to know that Sam and I, we made our peace. We're okay. You did that for us."

Dean could only sigh.

"I didn't do anything –"

"Dean, you have been holding our family together from the very beginning. I know it's my fault that you feel this sense of responsibility towards every life, towards your family, but you have to know that with that responsibility, also comes worthiness. I'm sorry I never gave you enough of that so you'd know how much you did for both Sammy and me, how you kept us together, how much you still keep Sam together, but it's time you hear that from me and it's time that you owned it."

Dean just blinked at his father and sat speechless.

"I also want you to promise me something."

"Sure, Dad," Dean said hesitantly, remembering the last time he had kept a promise to his father.

"I want you to promise me that the both of you will live the lives you were meant to before your mother passed. She would have wanted that for the both of you. I want that for the both of you."

"I don't know, the Devil's Gate, all those demons escaping from Hell –"

"I know neither of you could walk away from that responsibility even if you wanted to, but promise me, it won't be all about hunting, that you won't let it consume you like I let it. If you need permission then I'm giving it right now. Be happy, both of you. You've more than earned it and it's what I want for you. I want you boys to have what your mother and I had. Love is everything. Only now do I have the courage to tell you that."

"We promise, Dad," Sam piped up from his chair, a shaky smile on his face.

Sam wanted to give their father something more than just memories to take with him. He wanted to give their father peace.

"How long have you been listening?" Dean scolded jokingly.

"Just for a little while," Sam smiled a little mischievously.

"Yeh, right and since when are you making promises for me?" Dean protested lightly. "Who died and made you boss of me?"

John watched the loving and light-hearted exchange between his sons and felt uplifted. He'd never tell them, of course, but his torment in Hell had been the legacy that he had left his boys. It had tortured his soul knowing that his sons would be forever unhappy, unable to truly love someone else and have a family as he had until the demon had destroyed him. He had been solely responsible for doing that to them. He couldn't blame the demon entirely for what he, alone, had done to them. Now, with the knowledge out in the open and giving his blessings to his sons to live on, he, too, had been freed and could finally reunite with his Mary. The glimmer of hope that had never faded since the night he had lost her.

"Boys, I need to hear that promise from you both. I know that if you give your word, you'll hold to it. After all, I taught you that, didn't I?" John half-teased.

Sam and Dean became serious again and nodded.

"I promise, Dad," they chorused and no other music ever composed could have sounded as sweet to John as his sons' voices joined in concert.

"Good. Now, I've got a date waiting for me," John smiled.

At first, the boys looked confused. It was Dean who finally made the connection.

"Mom?"

John nodded.

"Thanks to you both I can finally be with your mother. Your forgiveness freed me."

They smiled and for the first time, with nothing more to say. They could only watch as their father slowly began to fade.

"Take care of each other now," John said as he disappeared.

"Bye, Dad," they chorused together again.

**oooo**

**FIN**

**Thank you for the WONDERFUL reviews and feedback. They are all very much appreciated.**


End file.
